The Old Road to Paradise/God's Places

by Margaret Widdemer

GOD'S PLACES

I said, "I am so tired of all the old tired faces     In the crowded places, I tire of all the weary steps that cross and beat     Down the long swift street:" I said, "I will return into my own still room,     Thick with peace and gloom."

I said, "I will summon up the still bright streams     Of my trooping dreams, Whose faces are as weariless and calm and young     As a bird-note sung, Who drift along with sunset-colored robes outblowing,     Of all need unknowing."

And then . . . the sun shone cloudless, and the wind blew fleet     Down the long swift street And through the windowed canyon's end the sky's sweet blue     Shone unwearied through, And I said, "But I must stay, for see, my brothers' faces     Here in God's own places!"